That burning ball of scorching misery, otherwise known as the Sun, has committed new outrages against planet Earth and its inhabitants. As mercury is touching the 40 degree Celsius mark – which happens to be the average temperature in Hell – the general population is planning to take prompt action against the offender. I think that being the centre of the solar system has gotten into Sun’s big head. Copernicus, you have created a megalomanic monster.

I must have inadvertently insulted some solar deity because I find that this oppressive heat has malevolent intent. I would cry (out of sheer hopelessness), but the arid air has dried up every secret water reserve in my body, and I simply cannot afford the waste. My internal organs have entered into the process of complete internal liquefaction (which renders the saying “to talk of one’s ass” more literal than one would care for). I think hospitals should start issuing free IV bags filled with ice-cream (and I promise to personally supervise the disposal of unclaimed or surplus IV bags – everything for the cause).

This infernal heat made me realize I harbour very strong feelings about water and its derivatives. I like H20 and I like it cold. If I could, I would make passionate love to it all night long. The only problem is that I’ve been consuming such prodigious quantities of it these last few weeks, I’m sure it will double our water bill. It’s a miracle I haven’t turned into an aqua woman or perhaps mermaid (I hear they make a good living). Another fear is that I might just evaporate and leave only a damp spot behind.

Truly, what does a girl have to do to get some rain around here? I have consulted the oracle of all useful and useless knowledge – the internet. Now, the most popular method includes rain dancing. Native Americans sure knew how to moisten things up. Now, there is just a slight problem. Apparently, I would need goat hair, which is particularly tricky since there is no way I’ll go near a goat – they unsettle me. Also, you have to learn steps. Not an option. Everything more complicated than a swirl turn will end in tears for the spectators.

Evidently, I need a plan B. Well, I was thinking about contacting “Ra”, which is short for the Egyptian solar deity. In ancient Egypt Ra was a big deal. The general consensus of pseudo-historians on several websites that I checked is that Ra pretty much created everything. One of his closest human collaborators, Imhotep, held several important official positions and even starred in The Mummy alongside Rachel Weisz and Brendan Fraser. What a versatile man!

If that weren’t enough, he also made his mark on the world by writing poetry. Many prominent Egyptologists claim he is the author of “Walking on Sunshine” and “Walk like an Egyptian” (do you detect a pattern?). In fact, this is what it’s written in black and white hieroglyphs inside his tomb. Professor Carter, who had first discovered these gems of lyrical expression, was kept silent under the threat of death. (Things one reads about, eh?) If I remember correctly, the exact nature of the threat was that “should he speak, he would soon be sharing sleeping quarters with Tutankhamun”. The irony…

All things considered, Imhotep seems the perfect mummy for the job. I figure that we can ask him to intervene on our behalf and beg Ra (or any other smug deity that is responsible for this climate inferno) for some good ol’ rain. In exchange for his good will we will offer him and his better half luxurious accommodations in the state-of-the-art pyramid just outside Cairo. How could anyone refuse?

Therefore, if you and your family experience a significant drop in temperatures, you’ll know who to thank.